


Scent

by theobjectlesson



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 01:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theobjectlesson/pseuds/theobjectlesson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico is seriously tired of people saying he smells like corpses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scent

**Author's Note:**

> Silly short bit I decided to write instead of sleeping. Occurred to me after coming across this in several Percico fics. Poor Nico.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Nico is seriously tired of people saying he smells like corpses.

_I mean honestly_ , he thinks, sitting by the campfire, _that doesn’t make any sense_.

Sure, he spends a lot of time in the Underworld, but there aren’t actually _corpses_ there. Souls, ghosts, demons, sure. No corpses. What did they think, that after people burned the bodies they somehow were magically reconstituted in the Underworld? Ridiculous. 

The case could be made for bones, he supposes. There are bones with skeletons, some without, and he does spend a fair amount of time summoning them to do his bidding. Maybe he smells like bones.

Nico sniffs the arm of his aviator jacket self-consciously. Doesn’t smell like corpses to him, and he’s pretty sure he’s had more experience in this field than most of these prepubescent campers. He’s looking into the flames, grumbling to himself, periodically raising his jacket to his face for another check, when-

“Did you just smell your arm?”

Percy has managed to sneak up on him. How embarrassing.

“No.”

“You totally did! I saw you! What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Go away, Jackson.”

Percy plops down next to him, leaning against the large log bench and stretching his legs out on the grass. It’s a cool misty evening at camp, but the fire is bright and happy and it’s keeping the little ring of light warm and dry.

“Why are you smelling yourself? Forget to shower? It’s cool, happens all the time. Monster will explode all over me and I’ll have Greek in an hour. Of course, I smell like the sea all the time, so no biggie.”

Nico folds his arms over his knees and thunks his head down, “Gods, Jackson, that is a fascinating story. Please, tell me more.” But really, he’s just blushing because yeah, Percy does always smell like the ocean, and it’s nice.

“Well, sor _ry_ for trying to make conversation, Ghost King. I’ll leave you to your arm smelling.”

But it’s an empty threat because he just folds his arms behind his head and leans back, looking at the fire. Nico scowls, but after a few minutes, he has to know.

“Percy?”

“Nico.”

“Do I smell like corpses?”

Percy tilts his head slightly to look at him, raising his eyebrows.

“Um, what?” 

“Do I smell like corpses? Dead things? Rotting stuff? I mean, I know I’m a child of Hades, but it’s not like I roll around in graves or anything-“

“What, you don’t?! I thought that was part of the job description-“

Nico delivers a quick punch to his friend’s shoulder before resuming his position with his chin resting on his forearms.

 “Ow, sheesh, just a joke. No, you don’t smell like corpses.”

Nico rolls his ear to his arm and looks at Percy, trying to gauge if he’s being teased, but Percy actually looks pretty serious even with the small smile that’s always on his face.

“No?”

Percy laughs, “No. Not at all.” 

Another pause, and Nico blurts out, “What do I smell like?”

Percy laughs, and Nico immediately blushes to the tips of his ears.

“Hah, I don’t know, Nico, I’ve never thought to describing it. Why the sudden fixation?”

Nico glowers, turning away. “Never mind, just forget it.”

But Percy catches on too quickly.

“Wait, are you seriously upset that I don’t think about what you smell like?”

“No. Go away.”

“Nico, come on. I just never tried to put it in words before. Is it that important to you?”

Silence.

“I can barely spell your last name. If you’re going to be upset with me, I’d start with that, personally.”

Nico tries to repress the laugh but he knows Percy can see him softening. 

“Nico.” 

No, he refuses to give in.

“Niiiiiico.”

He’s smiling again, involuntarily. Percy goes for the kill. 

“Fine. Come here and we’ll find out.”

And Percy grabs Nico around the waist, hauling him into his lap. Nico protests weakly at the manhandling but resistance is futile, his back is against Percy’s chest, with Percy’s legs framing his as he leans back and gives up. As usual.

“That’s better. Time to solve the great mystery of our time, what does Nico Di Angelo smell like?” 

Nico rolls his eyes but abruptly melts as he feels Percy’s lips against his neck, between the collar of his jacket and his ear. Lips and nose, he realizes, and for some reason Nico is very into the fact that Percy is now taking deep breaths against his skin.

All Nico can hear is the fire and the faint sounds of nighttime as he lets Percy snake his arms around his waist. He folds, finally relaxing, into the body behind him and almost forgets what they were talking about when he feels Percy hum quietly against his neck.

“Well, let’s see. Campfire. Probably because we’re right next to it, but whenever you’re at Camp, you’re always out here and the scent is in your clothes now. Smoke, like fire smoke, burning oak logs.”

He drags his nose across Nico’s neck, ignoring Nico’s shudder as he reaches the other side.

“Kind of like burning metal too. Especially when you’ve just arrived, from shadow traveling, you pick up this metallic residue. It’s a little fire and brimstone, honestly. Very fitting.”

Percy leans forward, mouth just against Nico’s cheekbone, and this is a little more intimate than Nico had considered when he blurted out the question, and he’s pretty okay with that.

“Honestly, though? You smell like death.” 

Nico stiffens, but Percy holds him tighter.

“Not like dead, or rotting. Like _death_. Like something ending. Fading away. The way the air smells right when the sun goes down. Ash left over from fire. Old books. Drying roses, or sunflowers, always just a little bit gone by. Stuff like that. Not _dying_ , just… death.”

Nico turns his head slightly, seeing the flash of green eyes in his periphery.

“That was… poetic.”

Percy snorts, dropping his head to Nico’s shoulder.

“Oh, Nico. Always so gracious. Why do I bother.” 

“Thought you said you hadn’t thought about it?”

“Said I’d never tried to define it, not that I hadn’t completely memorized how you smell. Just don’t ask me to write it down, or we’ll be in real trouble.” 

Nico laughed, turning more, and he kisses Percy when Percy lifts his head. It’s a quick kiss, but when Nico pulls away, Percy grins at him, bright as sun. 

“Now, you smell like me.”

And Nico has to kiss him again.

 

Later, they’re in Percy’s bunk, heartbeats slowing, and Nico is catching his breath with his mouth between Percy’s shoulder blades. The skin against his lips is covered with a light sheen of sweat, and everything around him is Percy, except for something, just a hint around the edges. Nico smiles, arm around Percy’s waist tightening as he feels his heart start to change its mind about calming down.

Percy turns in his arms, just in time to see Nico’s grin go feral.

“What is it?”

Nico raises his hand to the Percy’s face, cupping his jaw, and he leans in and breathes.

“Now, you smell like me.”

Percy’s eyes darken as Nico drags a thumb across his lips, tangles his fingers in his hair and whispers,

 

“I like it.”

 

_fin_


End file.
